Child of Time
by KHansen
Summary: When the Doctor and Rose visit an alien planet, Traxafargon, Rose is hit with the beam of a device that degenerates her into a three year old with no memory of the Doctor or their travels.
1. Chapter 1

"Traxafargon! The next destination on our list!" The Doctor cries, running around the console of the TARDIS. Rose smiles passively at the wild man. His light brown coat flaps behind him as he dashes here and there, instructing her to hold down a lever or press a button every so often. Slowly, by observation, Rose is learning to fly the TARDIS. Usually, when the Doctor is tinkering under the console and Rose is curled up on the jump seat with another rag magazine, she'll be paying attention to what the Timelord is doing and will ask him questions about what each thing does. If she doesn't understand something he says during his extremely long speech about the device or machinery, Rose will make a mental note of it and go look it up later. This can take anywhere from ten minutes to ten hours depending on how complex the object of her curiosity is.

"I didn't even know we had a list," Rose responds, her tongue between her teeth. Her keen eyes watch the Doctor's movements and memorizes the order in which he flips switches, presses buttons, and bangs on the console with his funny rubber mallet. Each time he does so, Rose flinches, because the TARDIS doesn't like it and finds it unnecessary.

"You cheeky woman," the man with big brown hair and warm chocolate eyes smiles at her. Her pulse stutters slightly, just like it does every time he gives her that smile, "Of course we have a list. Or rather I have a list. You get little or no say in where we go."

"And neither do you," Rose replies, laughing, "She takes us where we _need_ to go, not where we _want_ to go."

The Doctor starts to pout at Rose's contradictory words. She's clever, more clever than he gives her credit for.

"Oh all right, what's on Traxafargon?"

"Well, Traxafargons of course! As well as these delectable nibbles that are, quite honestly, to die for. And they may or may not have some of the best chips in the universe." The Doctor gives her _that_ smile again and the butterflies in her stomach flutter.

"Di'you say chips?" Rose grows excited, "Real, proper chips? Not those nasty ones from Mickey D's or anything but _real_ chips?"

"Yep," the 'p' pops, "Like I said, best in the universe." The TARDIS lands with her familiar bong and sudden silence.

"That landing was rather good, dontcha think?" Rose teases.

"Yes it was," the Doctor preens, "I must be getting better at this."

"Or it was 'cause I helped," Rose raises an eyebrow and her eyes glint with mischievousness.

He huffs in response before leading the way outside, "Come along, Rose Tyler. Allons-y!" Rose laughs and follows the Timelord outside, before immediately freezing and raising her hands.

They are surrounded by soldiers. Or at least that's what Rose assumes they are. They are short and look a little like Sontarans, kind of potato-y, but these soldiers don't wear metal body suits or have bald heads. Traxafargons are a nice green color with blonde hair, lighter than her own. They have large purple eyes and squashed noses and fat lips. They are short and squat and kind of cute in Rose's opinion. They all possess strange pistol-like weapons, aimed at Rose and the Doctor, except that the ends look like the bulbs of a child's rattle.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" One of the Traxafargons ask. This one has a gold badge on its lapel and a blonde mustache. It's voice is very high-pitched and Rose starts choking, trying not to laugh.

"I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose. We came to get some chips," the Doctor tells Mustache, his brows drawn down in confusion.

"We are in the middle of a war with the Sontarans!" Mustache cries, his voice going even more shrill. Rose can feel her face turning red from the suppressed laughter. The Doctor throws her a sly grin which almost makes her resolve crumble.

"Sorry, didn't know that. We just landed and didn't mean to land here. Actually, we'll just step back inside our spaceship and fly away."

"But what if you go to tell the Sontarans!? You could be their spy!" Mustache shrieks.

"We won't! We promise!" The Doctor cries back. Rose is stuttering and her ribcage feels like it's about to shatter from holding her breath.

"You're absolutely right you won't!" Mustache shifts the aim of his weapon to Rose and blasts her with a blinding pink light. The laughter stops immediately.

"_NO!_" the Doctor shouts, "I thought you were peaceful! No killing!"

"We didn't kill her! Take that as your warning Doctorman. Next time you show up, that'll happen to you!" Mustache gestures with his weapon towards the TARDIS, "Go on. Back into your spaceship with you!"

The Doctor stoops down and picks up the pile of Rose's clothes left on the ground right outside the TARDIS, before embarking on his ship again. Tears prickle his eyes as the doors bang shut behind him and he rests the absurdly heavy heap of clothing on the jump seat. With the groan and wheeze that is solely the TARDIS's engines, the Doctor suspends himself in the Time Vortex.

With a sigh, he slumps on the jump seat beside Rose's clothing and stares at the ground, his hands between his knees.

"What am I going to tell your mother?" the Doctor asks the textiles. It stirs beside him but he does not notice, "She'll kill me she will. No regeneration for me."

"What's regenderation?" a small voice asks at his side. Startled, the Doctor falls off of the jump seat and stares in shock at the small person sitting there. In the middle of Rose's clothing, wearing her big shirt, is a small girl with big whiskey colored eyes and pink shell lips. Light blonde hair that matches her eyebrows hangs in soft curls around the child's face.

"Rose?" the Doctor asks, hushed.

"Yeah?" the little girl responds, "what's regnederation, mister?"

"It's when I change my face to a different one." The Doctor responds, still stunned. Rose clambers down from the jump seat, the blue shirt she wears hanging down below her knees.

"Rose, how old are you?"

She holds up her thumb, forefinger, and middle finger, "This many."

Realization settles over the Doctor, he's going to have to take care of a small child while he tries to figure out how to change her back to an adult. Oh gosh.


	2. Chapter 2

It's been three days. _Three days_. And the Doctor just can't figure out how to change Rose back into a normal, twenty-one year old human being. He's taken care of basic necessities—clothes, toys, food—and can he just say how happy he was to find out that three-year-old Rose is already potty trained. Thank you, Jackie Tyler.

Currently, the Doctor is sitting in the library, the universal computer with the knowledge of all time in it having failed him, surrounded by mounds of books on all varieties of subjects. The ones closest to him, and most dog-eared, are _Traxafargons and Their Culture_, _The Sontaran Wars_, _Planets in the Androgan Galaxy and their War Tactics_, and _What to Expect When You're Expecting_. Not that he's expecting of course. But the rather helpful book addresses what to do when Rose throws a temper tantrum, or needs some love. So far, Rose has been remarkably passive, rather content to just play quietly with her toys or look at the pictures in a book (Thought the Doctor suspects that she can actually read quite a few of the words), leaving the Doctor to his musings. Occasionally, she will come up to him and request something, or just clamber onto whatever seat he is currently occupying with her toy or book, and sit in his lap. When she does this, the Doctor just gets this wonderful feeling as he wraps one thin arm around her thin body to keep her from falling off his lap.

He looks up from the current book he is speed-reading (_Weapons, Weapons, Weapons_) when he hears the library door open with a creak and a small grunt on Rose's behalf (it is a rather heavy door), as Rose's wail of distress pierces his sensitive eardrums. The Doctor leaps to his feet to see Rose sitting on the ground by the door, cradling one small hand, tears streaming down her face as she sniffles and tries to cry quietly.

"Rose, what's wrong?" the Doctor asks urgently. In response, she holds out her little hand, her fingers an angry red and looking slightly flattened. She must have pinched them in the door. He crouches beside her and takes the injured hand, carefully bending the fingers and checking for breaks.

"Does this hurt for me to do this?" He bends the fingers into a fist, and Rose shakes her head 'no', "How about this?" He gently bends her fingers backwards and repeats the action, sniffling slightly as she blinks her eyes hard.

She rubs under her nose with one little fist, "I'm okay Mr. Doctor man." She wouldn't stop calling him that, "I just pinched my fingers."

He smiles gently, and then states brightly, "Well, I don't see any broken bones, missing fingers, or little aliens so I think you'll be okay!" She giggles and stands up, tottering slightly on her short legs. The Doctor's hearts pang a little at her outfit. A miniature version of what she wore when they met Queen Victoria and had the run-in with the werewolf. The TARDIS must have set it out.

The Doctor straightens up as well and turns to walk back to his books when he feels a light tug on his sleeve. He turns back to see Rose's skinny little arms in the air, just begging him to carry her. He thinks and then lifts her up, settling her on his arm, which he wraps under her bum and grips her leg, the other arm pressing into her lower back. She wraps her thin arms around his neck and rests her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes with a little sigh of exhaustion. The Doctor checks his time sense and is shocked to discover that is it nearly midnight, London time. No wonder Rose is exhausted.

"Ready for bed?" He asks in a low voice, stroking her soft, wavy hair.

Rose nods into his shoulder and asks, "Can you sing the song?"

"What song?"

"The one that the walls sing."

"You can hear the walls singing?" the Doctor asks, shocked.

"Yeah. And it's this pretty," she stretches her arms out as wide as she possibly can.

He sniffs, his mind turning over this new information. Could twenty-one Rose hear it as well, and just didn't tell him? Or can only children hear it along with Timelords? "I can't sing that one, only the walls can. But I can sing you another one."

"Can you sing Mummy's song?"

"I don't know that one," the Doctor admits, feeling a twinge of guilt at Rose's being away from her mother in this fragile state.

"It goes like this," Rose states:

"_It's nine o'clock on a Saturday  
__the reglar crowd shuffle in  
__there's a ol' man sitting next to me  
__makin' love to his toxic and gin"_

"Your mum sings you 'Piano Man'," the Doctor asks amusedly.

"Yeah, do you know it?"

"Mmhmm." He nods:

"_He says, Son can you play me a memory  
__I'm not really sure how it goes  
__But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete  
__When I wore a younger man's clothes._

_La la la de de da  
__La la lade da da dum_

_Sing us a song, you're the piano man  
__Sing us a song tonight  
__Well, we're all in the mood for a melody  
__And you've got us feelin' alright."_ The Doctor walks out of the library, still singing the song while Rose sings along quietly. Jackie Tyler, a Billy Joel fan. Who woulda known?

"_Now John at the bar is a friend of mine  
__He gets me my drinks for free  
__And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke  
__But there's someplace that he's rather be.  
__He says Bill, I believe this is killing me  
__As the smile ran away from his face  
__Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star  
__If I could get out of this place."_

Rose sings along a bit louder now, knowing these words by heart:

"_Oh, la la la de de da  
__la la de de da da dum."_

With a smile, the Doctor pushes through the door of Rose's room and lays her on her bed, removing the dungaree to leave her in her knickers and t-shirt. He continues to sing, Rose mumbling along, as he removes her socks:

"_Now Paul is a real estate novelist  
__Who never had time for a wife  
__And he's talking with Davy who's still in the navy  
__And probably will be for life.  
__And the waitress is practicing politics  
__As the business men slowly get stones  
__Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness  
__But it's better than drinking alone."_

Rose looks at him blearily, her small eyes quickly falling shut as she tries to sing along, but ends up mumbling:

"_Sing us a song, you're the piano man  
__Sing us a song, tonight.  
__Well, we're all in the mood for a melody  
__And you've got us feelin' alright."_

The Doctor is the only one singing as Rose closes her eyes and her breathing evens out, becoming deeper as she sinks into sleep:

"_It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday,  
__And the manager gives me a smile  
_'_Cause he knows that it's me they've been coming to see  
__To forget about life for awhile.  
__And the piano sounds like a carnival  
__And the microphone smells like a beer  
__And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar  
__And say "Man, what are you doin' here?"_

_La la la de de da  
__La la de de da dum."_

His eyes soften with his voice as he watches tiny Rose sleep. One small hand is curled into a lax fist, the other gripped in his hand. Quietly, tenderly, the Doctor sings the final chorus:

"_Sing us a song, you're the piano man  
__Sing us a song tonight.  
__Well, we're all in the mood for a melody  
__And you've got us feelin' alright."_


End file.
